


in screaming color

by autumncolour



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Ficlet, M/M, Murder, POV Outsider, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumncolour/pseuds/autumncolour
Summary: “Henriksen. You got to see this. Those nutjobs just posted a new video.”The Winchesters are serial killers who film themselves enjoying a little murder. Agent Henriksen watches and feels sick.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 109





	in screaming color

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unhappy_matt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unhappy_matt/gifts).



* * *

“Henriksen. You got to see this. Those nutjobs just posted a new video.”

Henriksen is in front of the screen in two strides. “Show me.” He can feel clammy sweat gathering in his armpits.

The officer—Paulsen? Paulson? Something like that—clicks on an icon and a video pops into fullscreen mode. The officer presses play, adjusts the volume up a little. Then he leans back in his chair, arms crossed and an expression of fascinated disgust plain on his face.

On the screen a shaky view of an office ceiling slides away to reveal Sam Winchester, looking over his shoulder away from the camera, which he must be holding at an arm’s length.

“Dean,” Sam in the video says. “I’m recording. Come on.” He turns to the camera, flashes a smile that sends chills running down Henriksen’s spine. “He’s fussing with his hair. Gotta get it just right for the camera.”

“Fuck you,” comes Dean’s voice from outside of the picture, and then suddenly he’s there, coming into the frame from Sam’s left. His hand trails along Sam’s shoulder and comes to rest at the base of his neck, the gesture at once possessive and seductive, and Sam leans into it, turns to smile at his brother. 

A slut’s smile, Henriksen unwittingly thinks—the kind dark-eyed women give bad boys in dingy bars. It turns his stomach. 

He can’t look away.

“They’re sick, is what they are,” the officer says, and Henriksen shushes him.

On the screen, Sam is speaking. “Want to tell our audience why we’re here, baby?”

He’s still looking at Dean, running the tip of his tongue over his teeth, and then the picture shudders as Sam leans in to—what? Plant a kiss at the hinge of his brother’s jaw? Lick him? Bite him?—Henriksen can’t tell, but whatever it is, it makes Dean growl. Dean is now staring straight into the camera, and Henriksen suddenly gets the uncomfortable feeling that this serial-killing psychopath can somehow see him through the screen.

“Well, sweetheart,” Dean says, punctuating _sweetheart_ by sliding his hand into Sam’s hair, “We’re here to kill some folks.”

Sam laughs. “Don’t use so many words, Dean. The poor detectives might not be able to follow.”

“Okay.” Dean lifts his chin, licks his lips. “Murder.” He nearly purrs the word. “That’s why we’re here.” 

He tugs at Sam’s hair, hard, wrenching his head back, and Sam makes a sound like he’s about ready to come in his pants—and then the brothers are kissing, messy and hungry and obscene, and Henriksen really wants to look away, and really can’t.

The officer clears his throat. “Mind if we skip past some of the next few minutes? I skimmed through it before I called you over, and. Well. There’s a lot of murdering going on after this and I don’t know if I have the stomach to watch it.”

“Go take a break.” Henriksen pats the officer’s shoulder. “I’ll take it from here.”

The officer slinks away like a grateful dog, and Henriksen sits down in his chair. 

On the screen there is indeed a lot of murdering going on. A lot of screaming. A lot of blood. There are some ten people in the room—is it a different one or were they just out of frame? He must rewind back later to check—and the Winchesters are hacking through them with what appears to be machetes, brutally efficient, going for jugular veins but also gleefully severing limbs lifted in pathetic attempts at protection against the sharp blades. The video is shaky and disorienting. It shows glimpses of the victims’ terrified faces, blades flashing and bright red blood flying in graceful arches—and every now and again the bright flash of a smile from one of the brothers. 

Sam is the one holding the camera throughout the slaughter, and as the screams gradually die out, it clicks that the strange noise Henriksen has kept hearing is Sam’s laughter.

He feels sick. These two lunatics should be put down like rabid dogs.

Dean slides into view. He reaches up to touch Sam’s cheek, and says, “Hey.”

He’s covered in blood, and he’s smiling, but that’s not the most sickening part. What really turns Henriksen’s stomach is the tone of Dean’s voice: soft, almost reverent, like he’s addressing a lover snuggled next to him in bed. 

“Hey gorgeous,” Sam says. He turns his head, tongue darting out to lick at Dean’s thumb. “How’re you doing?” 

“I’m doing great.” Dean pushes his thumb into Sam’s mouth, and Sam moans around it. “Did you get it all on tape?”

Sam laughs, breathless. He releases Dean’s thumb with a wet pop, and says, “It’s not really a ‘tape’, Dean, it’s digital. But yeah, I got it all.”

“Good.” Dean leans in and—this time Henriksen sees it clearly—licks his brother’s blood-covered cheek. The camera moves closer to their faces, and they both turn to look straight into it, a horrible parody of teenage girls taking a ‘selfie’. Dean smiles, feral and strangely beautiful. “Well. I hope you enjoyed the show, Agent Henriksen.”

Sam’s bright laughter, then jarring silence as the screen goes black.

Henriksen slowly uncurls his cramping fingers. He leans back in the chair and allows himself one minute of rest. Then he springs into action.

“Paulson? Paulsen! Get back here. I need you to trace the source of this video A-S-A-fucking-P.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I make no excuses. Inspired by [this post on tumblr](https://decadent-prince.tumblr.com/post/644837340252110848/so-like-darkwinchesters-au-where-they-are). Thank you for the inspiration, this was superbly fun to write!


End file.
